


Old Songs Now

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: This is what Ibex tells you, the day before you go on stage, presenting yourself as the new leader of the Righteous Vanguard: "Keep your head up. Don't stop smiling. And no matter how much you want to? Don't you ever let them see you flinch."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a Secret Samol treat for @imperialhare on twitter, who is very cool and great for organizing this whole shebang!
> 
> This might be a slight canon divergence in that I think they said no one saw Ibex during the pre-finale timeskip, but...I'm not actually sure? it's a mystery!!

This is what Ibex tells you, the day before you go on stage, presenting yourself as the new leader of the Righteous Vanguard: "Keep your head up. Don't stop smiling. And no matter how much you want to? Don't you ever let them see you flinch."

In the wake of the September Incident, and of everything that came before, you're not sure how interested you are in taking Ibex's advice. But he's giving you the Righteous Vanguard. It's not _just_ his decision, but you're under no illusions that you'd get your hands on it if he truly didn't want you to. 

"What if I do stumble?" You're not used to being this nervous--you haven't felt this way before a performance since you were very young. The spotlight's in your blood. But this is different. This is bigger than any show you've ever put on.

All you can do is hope, desperately, that you're ready for it. 

"You just have to get the audience on your side, Miss Joie, and you're good at that." Ibex is looking more careworn these days. He's developing frown lines. When he puts his hand on your shoulder, it's warm. "I trust you, Aria," he says, and there are the sparkling eyes, the self-assured grin. Here's the man who led a revolution on Counterweight with nothing more than the sound of his voice. "And I'm not a man who trusts easily."

"You're saying that I can't screw up because you don't think I will, and you're a good judge of character?" 

"Precisely," Ibex says, smiling with white teeth.

It's such a quintessentially Ibex thing to say that it startles a laugh out of you, and you can't help but relax, after that. It's not that you necessarily agree that Ibex is really so smart. In some ways, he's already misjudged you and the rest of the Chime. You never did get Maryland off of September like he believed you could. 

But maybe confidence is catching. The next day you raise your golden arm high, and you lay out a future for the Golden Branch. 

You don't flinch. You keep your chin up. And you smile, wide, as the people cheer you on.

-

Back when the Chime was just starting out, you imagined that the four of you would stay together forever. You were going to be legends. There would be songs about all of you--of course there would; you were going to write them yourself. You had it all planned out. There would be uniforms, someday. 

That was before Rigor. It was before AuDy turned out to be two Divines, before Cass took up the mantle of their homeland again, before Mako found out the truth of his past. Before Ibex gave you Righteousness. 

You're all going to legends, in the end. You know that. It's just different than what you expected. Than what you hoped for. 

Hope is a funny thing, these days.

You've only just started sparring with Cass. It's a good way to reconnect. There's so much less to worry about, in the quiet blankness of space, the hum of the Righteous Regent around you. You never used to like the quiet before. Now, though, it's rare enough that you can appreciate it. Or however close to it you can get. There is always, after all, Righteousness and its whispers to consider. 

"I saw your speech," Cass says, crackling over the comms, their sword coming towards you. The Righteous Regent ducks gracefully out of the way. "You did well."

You fire back with your canons. The Apokine bats them away like flies. "Thanks," you say. "Jacqui was worried about it, but I thought I did okay! Ibex coached me through it beforehand. I guess he's given a lot of speeches. It's different than performing--I'm still getting used to it."

Cass is silent for a moment, Apokine remaining in a holding pattern. "Ibex, huh?"

"I know, I know," you say. Sparring seems to be over for now. "He's not so bad, underneath, you know, his whole deal."

"I kind of hate his whole deal," Cass says. "I'm not really interested in getting past it."

You used to think so too. But the closer you get to Righteousness, the more you understand Ibex in a way you couldn't before. 

It's heavy. You're still settling into it.

But Cass probably knows something about that too. 

"Hey, I think that's enough for today. What do you say we head back to Apostolos and get a quick lunch?" you ask.

You hear Cass laugh. "If you insist," they say, put-upon and fond. "Pasta's way better local, anyway."

They're right; the pasta's much better than the stuff Cass used to make for you on the Kingdom Come. Still, it tastes like home.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, Righteousness disapproves.

-

Officially, Ibex isn't part of the Righteous Vanguard anymore. You're not really sure what Ibex is, these days. But it's still his party, even if the center of it has changed. Every now and then he calls you, or you call him, so that you can both work out a thorny problem facing the Vanguard together.

It's not that you thought this would be easier; you always knew it was going to be a rocky path. You can't sustain a revolution on idealism alone. But sometimes, you really wish you could.

"It's like chemistry," Ibex tells you, when you let yourself complain. "Biology, even. You have to find just the right combination and proportion of ingredients, or it all comes to nothing. Idealism's necessary, but insufficient." His hologram smiles, just slightly. "It's good, though, that you're mixing things up. You tend more towards idealism and pomp and circumstance than I did. Maybe that's what the Golden Branch needs."

You're sitting cross-legged on your bed--you've had a long day, arguing with Jamil about the direction of the Rapid Evening. It feels, these days, like you're always arguing with someone, even your friends. You never get to just have coffee with Jamil anymore. "Is it always this _exhausting_?"

Ibex laughs. "There were five of me, and I still never felt like I ever got enough sleep. You never quite get used to it. There's always something else to do."

Righteousness hasn't gotten to you the same way it got into Ibex. Righteousness is a tool in your arsenal, not a vice around your neck. 

Sometimes you think it would be easier, if you did let Righteousness in. 

You wouldn't. Jacqui would kill you. Ibex would kill you. Cass would _definitely_ kill you. But it's still nice, to think that maybe you could have help. Obviously you have help: Orth gives you advice when he can. So does Ibex. Jacqui is the best lieutenant you could ask for.

But it's hard not to think that maybe you're not enough. Aria Joie is a pop star and a revolutionary and an idealist. But what is any of that, in the face of the enormous difficulty of change?

You miss the days when being a revolutionary meant calling out slogans while wielding your gun. You miss having the Chime around you, cracking jokes. You miss following Cass' plans, and believing that no matter what, it would all turn out okay.

Ibex must see some of this on your face. He says, "I'm not going to tell you it gets easier, Aria. I don't need to lie to you." His image flickers, for just a moment. "But you can carry that weight, Executive Joie. There's no use doubting yourself."

Trusting Ibex is always a shaky proposition. You hope that this time, it's worth it.

-

You're distracted, the day that Ibex comes to visit in the flesh. You were supposed to have lunch with Mako, but it turned into a business meeting instead--things between the Vanguard and the Evening are tenuous right now. Jacqui told you that you were working too hard, and you snapped at her before storming off. You haven't decided how you're going to apologize yet. 

All those songs you've written for her, and you don't even know what kinds of flowers she likes. Some partner you are.

You meet Ibex at the Vanguard's headquarters and lead him up to your office. He walks slower than he used to. You talk about how things are going, for the Vanguard and for the Sector, but you can't keep your mind from wandering.

"Am I boring you, Miss Joie?" Ibex doesn't sound angry, but he's on the edge of it.

"Sorry," you say, crossing your arms. "It's just--things aren't going very well with the Evening. Or with the Free States. With anyone, really. And Jacqui and I aren't great. Maybe you should come back another time."

Ibex levels you with a look. "Executive. Distraction is dangerous. Love is a luxury we cannot afford."

You shake your head. You're tired, and annoyed, but you can feel that passion coming back. "I can't believe that. If that's true, then what is it we're fighting for?" You think about that night you sat with Jacqui in your room, writing her a new song, about summers on Counterweight, stuffy and uncomfortable and wonderful, about sitting in the mech bay of the Kingdom Come, listening to Cass and Mako argue about nothing. "You're wrong, Ibex. Love matters. It has to."

Ibex looks out the window. "Perhaps," he says. It's startling. You don't know if you've ever before heard him concede a point. "The older I get, the more I think you might be right."

It's on the tip of your tongue to say something about Maryland. To ask about her, or to apologize for not trying harder to save her. 

In the end, you don't have to. "I don't blame you for what happened, Aria. Maryland was always stubborn. I was a fool, to think she would abandon everything that she built, even to save her own life." He shakes his head, still looking away. "It doesn't matter. Past is past. Another thing you would do well to remember: it can be hard, not to dwell on your mistakes. Don't. It's not worth it."

You raise your chin. "I don't make mistakes."

Ibex smiles. "I thought that too, once," he says. "I made a few, in the end. I hope that you can learn from them." He gets up. "And if you ever find yourself feeling listless, give me a call. I'm sure I can think of some ways to piss you off. Get that fire back."

The worst thing is that he's right: you feel more energized than you have in days. "You know," you say, "this is why Cassander still can't stand you."

"I'm not here to be likeable," Ibex says easily, on his way out the door. "That's your job, Executive Joie. Don't let me down."

-

After it's all over--after you and Jacqui pile into her mech and pilot your way back to Counterweight, after the Vanguard counts its dead, after Mako finds the last wreckage of the Kingdom Come, empty and unsalvageable--you think about what Ibex told you, a long time ago, about regrets.

Cass would be so angry with you, still looking to Ibex for advice. But they're both dead. You couldn't save either of them. 

Jacqui said, almost five years ago now, that you couldn’t save everyone. You knew even then that she was right; the universe is too big and uncaring. 

Cass' legacy is slipping through your fingers. Mako hasn't remembered to return any of your calls. AuDy is gone, for good this time. 

But Jacqui's here beside you, a hand at your back whenever you need it. You have a nearly silent lunch with Orth in a Constellation Café, but when you leave, both of you are smiling. Jamil called you, crying and happy, after she was sure Rigour was gone. Not everything is lost. 

And two weeks after Rigour is defeated--two weeks after the whole of the Golden Branch comes together to do something right, for once, and damn the consequences--you stand in front of crowd, your head held high, a smile on your face, voice steady and clear.

You tell them that things are going to be okay. In your heart, you believe it.

And when you get home that night, you ask Jacqui if she wants to hear the new song you're working on.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr or twitter as luckydicekirby, where I'm Very Sad About Podcasts.


End file.
